Poem
Pedro Arturo Estrada
LOCUS SOLUS
IWelcome, perfect unreality,
dilution of certainty in angelic smokes, mirage,
clarity mutating towards absolute darkness.
Welcome, inconsistency of touch, dubious vision
saving us from dogma,
from believing we believe.
Welcome, intimate refraction of light
in the serous core of the cancer that kills
faith, the confident vigor of muscle
and the sensual impulse.
Welcome, wise fatigue
that grows and thickens
quietly in the arteries.
Friend that gives time
after all to time.
II
Since you enable going nowhere and to the centre
of the nebula, where there is only silence –
since you enable the reigning in the sancta sanctorum of the body
of the vague sun of nausea, since you enable the noiseless dying
of that voracious animal biting under the skin: love
and all its poisonous brood – since you smother rage,
since you rot before there can shine
the brain’s risky ambitious reveries,
since you humiliate blood with the invisible hand
that also makes the gardens bow, since you climb
up the fingers strengthening the music that will lose
the senses, since you vanquish the first glance
that seeks outside the exit from the maze, since
everyone is, we are helpless before you,
against you,
do not then release
any fissure
any forgotten wound
any loose terror.
© Translation: 2010, Laura Chalar
LOCUS SOLUS
LOCUS SOLUS
IBienvenida, perfecta irrealidad,
dilución de la certeza en humos angélicos, espejismo,
claridad mutante hacia la tiniebla absoluta.
Bienvenida inconsistencia del tacto, visión dudosa
que nos salvas del dogma,
de creer que creemos.
Bienvenida, refracción íntima de la luz
en el núcleo seroso del cáncer que aniquila
la fe, el confiado vigor del músculo
y el impulso sensual.
Bienvenida, fatiga sabia
que creces y te adensas
tranquila en las arterias.
Amiga que das tiempo
después de todo al tiempo.
II
Ya que permites ir a ninguna parte y al centro
de la nebulosa donde sólo hay silencio.
Ya que dejas reinar en el sancta sanctorum del cuerpo
el vago sol de la náusea, ya que dejas morir sin ruido
ese animal voraz que dentellea bajo la piel: el amor
y todas sus crías deletéreas, ya que asfixias la rabia,
ya que pudres antes que alcancen a brillar
las peligrosas, ambiciosas ensoñaciones del cerebro,
ya que humillas la sangre con la mano invisible
que también agacha los jardines, ya que subes
por los dedos afianzando la música que perderá
los sentidos, ya que doblegas la primera mirada
que busca afuera la salida del laberinto, ya que
nada pueden, nada podemos ante ti,
contra ti,
no dejes libre entonces
ninguna fisura
ninguna herida olvidada
ningún pavor suelto.
© 2010, Pedro Arturo Estrada
From: Locus Solus
From: Locus Solus
Poems
Poems of Pedro Arturo Estrada
Close
LOCUS SOLUS
IWelcome, perfect unreality,
dilution of certainty in angelic smokes, mirage,
clarity mutating towards absolute darkness.
Welcome, inconsistency of touch, dubious vision
saving us from dogma,
from believing we believe.
Welcome, intimate refraction of light
in the serous core of the cancer that kills
faith, the confident vigor of muscle
and the sensual impulse.
Welcome, wise fatigue
that grows and thickens
quietly in the arteries.
Friend that gives time
after all to time.
II
Since you enable going nowhere and to the centre
of the nebula, where there is only silence –
since you enable the reigning in the sancta sanctorum of the body
of the vague sun of nausea, since you enable the noiseless dying
of that voracious animal biting under the skin: love
and all its poisonous brood – since you smother rage,
since you rot before there can shine
the brain’s risky ambitious reveries,
since you humiliate blood with the invisible hand
that also makes the gardens bow, since you climb
up the fingers strengthening the music that will lose
the senses, since you vanquish the first glance
that seeks outside the exit from the maze, since
everyone is, we are helpless before you,
against you,
do not then release
any fissure
any forgotten wound
any loose terror.
© 2010, Laura Chalar
From: Locus Solus
From: Locus Solus
LOCUS SOLUS
IWelcome, perfect unreality,
dilution of certainty in angelic smokes, mirage,
clarity mutating towards absolute darkness.
Welcome, inconsistency of touch, dubious vision
saving us from dogma,
from believing we believe.
Welcome, intimate refraction of light
in the serous core of the cancer that kills
faith, the confident vigor of muscle
and the sensual impulse.
Welcome, wise fatigue
that grows and thickens
quietly in the arteries.
Friend that gives time
after all to time.
II
Since you enable going nowhere and to the centre
of the nebula, where there is only silence –
since you enable the reigning in the sancta sanctorum of the body
of the vague sun of nausea, since you enable the noiseless dying
of that voracious animal biting under the skin: love
and all its poisonous brood – since you smother rage,
since you rot before there can shine
the brain’s risky ambitious reveries,
since you humiliate blood with the invisible hand
that also makes the gardens bow, since you climb
up the fingers strengthening the music that will lose
the senses, since you vanquish the first glance
that seeks outside the exit from the maze, since
everyone is, we are helpless before you,
against you,
do not then release
any fissure
any forgotten wound
any loose terror.
© 2010, Laura Chalar
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